Tear Down This Wall
by Lord Cellytron
Summary: During an ill-fated pre-production of Chicago, Finn and Kurt find their lives changing forever. I tried to make it cracky so as to not overwhelm with sappiness, but I think I failed. Screw it. Pre-slash?


**God... I feel like Brittany at the end of this story. (Oops, spoiler alert) I've been writing ALL NIGHT, literally. Haven't done that in a loong time. O_O**

**I had this idea back in February (?) when I first started watching Glee, but felt like there was no place for my BS in the Glee fic world. Well, cut to yesterday, where I'm on a serious rush after watching my old favorite show, M*A*S*H, and I decide YES, dammit, there is a place for it. SO HERE WE GO. This is my first Glee fic.  
**

**(A bit of info on the timeline. It takes place in the "new" timeline, in which Theatricality comes before Funk, and Jesse doesn't officially leave New Directions until AFTER Theatricality. Thus, Jesse is in this fic, as a not!evil presence. Because he was not!evil in Dream On, dammit.) **

**A few other notes:**

***Kurt is really hard to write.**

***Finn is really easy to write, therefore most of the fic is from his POV.**

***Poor Brittany. **

***I love you, Jesse. You're not evil to me.  
**

**

* * *

**

"Okay, I'm out," Puck said, standing up in the middle of the stage, blinking under the intense spotlight. "I've had it with this play shit."

"You just got here," Santana snapped. "You haven't even done anything."

"That's how it's gonna stay," Puck said, turning to Mr. Schuester, who was currently occupied helping Tina, Mike, Rachel, and a reluctant Jesse paint the word "ROXIE" on a huge piece of wood which was going to have to serve as part of the set for McKinley High's 2010 production of _Chicago_.

"We'll get some Christmas tree lights," Tina was saying. "I think we can nail them to the letters... you know? It'll look great!"

"Absolutely!" Rachel exclaimed. "It'll be great!"

"Great," Jesse echoed, looking at the lopsided disaster before him with an expression of terror.

"Mr. Schue, can we get one of those, uh... timers? It can turn on when we want it to... you know?" Tina looked at Puck.

"I'm out," Puck said.

"Of what?" Schue asked him.

"This whole play shit. Glee Club is bad enough, okay? But Glee Club AND acting in some weenie-ass musical? Not. Happening. We already do enough damn show tunes!"

Rachel opened her mouth to unleash an emotional bomb of indignation at him, but it was Jesse who replied,

"That's funny you should say that. At Carmel, it was required of everyone in Vocal Adrenaline to participate in at least one play a year. Last year, we did _Amadeus_. I was Salieri," he said, smiling at Rachel, who gave him a look of pure adoration. "Ms. Corcoran believes acting develops an invaluable ability, the ability to consistently win out over other Glee Clubs who think it's all just about singing."

Rachel and Tina exchanged a grin and a blush, and Puck rolled his eyes.

"Let me spell it out for you," Puck scoffed, pointing at his chest. "Football player. Non-gay football player. Doesn't do musicals."

Matt approached Puck, opening his mouth to speak, but he was interrupted by Schue.

"Actually, Jesse's... kind of right," Schue said, giving Puck a reluctant smile. He stood up, preparing to make a speech.

Puck looked back at Santana, hoping she'd back him up, but she was too busy showing Brittany how to use a screwdriver.

"Guys, whatever happened to Theatricality? The only way we're gonna beat Vocal Adrenaline, remember? What we have here is a perfect opportunity to really show how theatrical we can be. Theater is about more than just standing up here and saying your lines. It's about the opportunity to become someone else, to get inside someone else's head. In the process, trust me, you learn a lot. You learn a lot about yourself. Your strengths. Your weaknesses. Who you are. Theater is a great thing, guys. You're all so lucky to have this opportunity. And I want to make sure that everyone, that ALL of you gets your fair shot at participating."

"That's why I'm handing out those little booklets on opening night," Brittany said shyly. "Mr. Schue picked me."

"I know," Santana whispered back. "They're called programs."

"Okay, fine. You got me. Let's stand up here and participate, that's all fine and dandy," Puck said. "Let's express ourselves until the damn cows come home. But how come WE have to build the sets, too?"

"He does have a point," Jesse nodded. "At Carmel-"

"We're... not Carmel," Schue laughed bitterly. "I'm sorry, guys, I know it sucks, but it really is up to us to make our own sets and costumes. There are more budget cuts going through even as we speak. We're lucky the theater program didn't get cut completely."

"Fair enough," Jesse nodded, sighing deeply.

"We don't mind, Mr. Schue!" Rachel exclaimed. "In fact, I'm reminded of an inspirational anecdote. As you may know, The inimitable Sarah Brightman was well-known for participating in the construction of the sets during the original run of _Phantom of the Opera_. In fact-"

"God, fine. Just... hand me a hammer," Puck growled. "I wanna hit something."

"That's the spirit!" Schue said, clapping his hands. "Let's build the best damn sets this place has ever seen!

* * *

Santana was the first to speak.

"This looks like ass."

Between the fourteen of them (counting Brittany, who got lost on the way back from the bathroom but had indeed done a good job painting the corner of the jail cell), they had "finished" the "sets" for the "courtroom", "jail cell", "nightclub" and "everything else", which was just a bright red wall with a door.

"Oh, come on, guys... it looks great," Schue said. "You guys did a good job on that... uh... the bench? Witness stand?"

"Witness stand," Finn beamed, bouncing up and down a little.

"Wait, you guys said that's where they hang that chick," Puck turned an accusing eye on Finn, Artie and Matt.

"You never would have helped otherwise," Artie shrugged.

"The hanging happens offstage," Rachel said cheerfully. "It is a public school."

"I don't know, I think we did a pretty good job," Finn smiled. "I never painted or... built... anything before."

"I would never have guessed," Jesse said, smiling innocently as he fingered a nail sticking out of the witness stand at a dangerous angle.

Puck rolled his eyes.

"This crap looks like it's gonna fall apart any second."

Mr. Schuester sighed.

"It's only got to last until the play ends, guys. Let's just remember to be gentle with everything, and it'll be fine."

"I don't know," Finn said, "It looks pretty sturdy to me."

He approached "Everything Else", and knocked on the door. A moment later, an absurdly costumed Kurt opened the door. He was wearing the same designer outfit he'd come to school in, but had added a black "Velma Kelly" wig, a tinselly silver skirt, and heels. It was apparent that he was still very upset about not being cast as Velma, but was making the most of his position as costume designer, alongside Mercedes.

"What?" Kurt asked. "We're busy."

Finn jumped back, surprised.

"Oh my god!" he exclaimed. "The door works! Holy crap, look, you guys! We built a door and it works! That's awesome!"

"Is that all?" Kurt asked, his black bobbed wig whooshing as he turned his head to look around him.

"Uh... yeah. I guess," Finn said, grinning sheepishly. "This door is awesome!"

"Okay." Kurt closed the door. "We're busy."

* * *

"Alright, guys, we did a GREAT job today!" Schue said. "Let's all go home and work on our lines some more! Those of us that have lines, that is. Everyone else, have a great weekend!"

The kids began streaming toward the door, grabbing their backpacks and jackets from the audience seats.

Quinn, who looked dead tired from so much manual labor, and much older than her 16 years, needed to take a breather. Her role as "woman in courtroom" had only one line, with Puck, but she had had to run it several times because Puck kept screwing up his one line.

Finn was standing by his favorite set, "Everything Else", admiring it. He glanced over at Quinn, and for the briefest of moments, their eyes met.

She sent him a sleepy half-smile, and for a second, he almost forgot everything. That was the same sleepy half-smile she had given him on so many mornings in homeroom, back when she would jokingly call him "Finn Fabray" and talk about their future. Before the baby. Before Glee. Before all the bullshit.

He looked away as quickly as he could, but found his eyes on Rachel and Jesse. Kissing, right there on stage, in front of Mr. Schue and everything.

Rachel used to look at him that way, didn't she? No. Not that way. The way she looked at Jesse was reserved only for Jesse. A look of childish awe, and womanly affection. They were the power couple. They belonged together. She'd never give Finn that same kind of look.

All at once, all he wanted was to get out of there, and go home.

Oh, except, he couldn't go home. He had to go to Kurt's house, which was technically his house now, too, but would never feel like it. And while the situation had improved, and they all resolved not to talk about it anymore, just like a good dysfunctional family, it wasn't at all the kind of place he could go to relax.

That was bullshit, too.

He had left his backpack backstage, and he decided to try the door. His door.

Damned if using that door didn't make him feel a tiny bit better, though.

He was walking into a crazy ass mess. There was Kurt, standing still while Mercedes frantically added the last few stitches to Roxie's glittery little number. Kurt now had on elbow-length evening gloves, a bizarre sort of thing on his head with a ton of bird feathers sticking out, and heels. His pants and shirt were neatly folded in the corner.

"Hey, what do you think?" Mercedes asked Finn. "Turn around, Kurt."

Kurt glanced back at Finn, and half-smirked.

"He's the wrong person to ask, Mercedes."

"I know, but I'm pretty damn pleased with my... well, our handiwork here! It's so _All That Jazz_!"

"Well, technically, Mercedes, Roxie will be wearing this particular dress during the '_Funny Honey_' number. Except for the hat. That's Velma's, during the courtroom scene."

"I know, but you know what I meant-"

"It looks great," Finn burst out, startling Kurt and Mercedes. "I mean... I've never seen the... what is it, a movie?"

Kurt settled on a shocked kind of "Mm-hmm."

"I've never seen the movie, but I saw the commercials. You look just like them. The... commercials."

Mercedes took it as a compliment, and grinned.

"Alright, baby, I gotta get my ass home. I haven't even started that project for Ms. Castle yet, and she gets... weird if you turn something in late. You gonna be okay?" she asked Kurt. She was asking if he would be okay getting the dress off, and cleaning up, but her eyes suggested that she was asking something else.

Kurt glanced back at Finn, who was standing with his hands in his pockets, looking tremendously awkward. Kurt smiled softly.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll be fine. See you Monday."

"Bye. Bye, Finn," Mercedes said awkwardly.

"Bye," Finn answered just as awkwardly.

Kurt began humming to himself as he started cleaning up. He seemed in no hurry to get the dress off, and in fact, began to add accessories to it. A different hat, a different wig, a strange feather boa. All of this he did without speaking a word to Finn, who also didn't seem in much of a hurry to say anything.

He kept telling himself that he was only here to see if Kurt could give him a ride home. And to get his backpack. He couldn't forget about his backpack. His school stuff was in there. That stuff was important. Couldn't go off and leave that... stuff.

Without thinking, he leaned against the set, which creaked under his weight. Kurt finally seemed ready to part with the dress, and he slipped into the dressing room.

A minute or so later, without warning, Kurt spoke to him from the dressing room.

"So, did you need something, Finn Hudson?"

Finn jumped, hitting the back of his head against the door. The entire set seemed to shift, and he hissed an expletive under his breath. _Way to not break the set, moron._

"Uh, no, I'm... good," he said, rubbing his head.

"I suppose you want a ride home?" Kurt asked in a not-unfriendly voice.

"Uh, yeah, yeah. That'd be... great," Finn replied.

"Out in a sec. Don't forget your backpack."

Finn couldn't help but smile.

He went to grab the backpack, but realized too late that he had forgotten to re-zip it when he had gone in to get a pen earlier. He had lines in the play, despite his assertion to Mr. Schue that he couldn't remember them, and he had had to underline all his lines multiple times so he'd know they were coming. It hadn't helped.

The contents of his backpack now sat, spilled in a haphazard pile on the floor.

"Crap," he said under his breath. It had been months since he had cleaned out his backpack, and he grimaced now to find that a long-forgotten sandwich and can of pop were on top of the pile. "Damn! I wondered what happened to that sandwich!"

"Finn?" Kurt asked, coming out of the dressing room. He still had on the wig and makeup, and beheld the scene before him with horror."What on earth am I looking at?"

"Uh, hey. Just gonna be a second, here. I spilled all the crap out of my backpack."

"Want some help?" Kurt asked.

"No, no, I got it. Stupid... backpack... spilling stuff..."

"Alright, look, I'm gonna go..."

The can of pop rolled away, and in a series of events which could not be duplicated in any but the most painstaking scientific tests, the can of pop struck the wheel mounted on the bottom of the "everything else" set, knocking it loose. The pop and the wheel went clattering off down the stage, and in a split second, the nearest wall began to fall toward the two boys.

Finn wasn't at all aware of what was happening, just that he heard something loud, he heard Kurt screaming his name (like a girl), and a moment later, he was flat on his ass, across the room, with Kurt sprawled over his legs.

The wall had collapsed, and the entire set had then collapsed in on itself in a series of deafening crashes.

From one wheel being knocked loose.

They really hadn't built that set very well at all.

* * *

Finn wasn't sure how long it had been, but it didn't seem very long, before Mr. Schue, Rachel, Jesse, Quinn, and Artie were flocking around him like crazy people. Well, crazier.

"Are you guys okay?" Schue cried. "Rachel, call 911!"

"No, no, don't..." Kurt said from somewhere below Finn's head. "We're fine. We're fine..."

"What happened?" Artie exclaimed. "The set is in utter ruins!"

Quinn was standing back, hand over her mouth. She was trying to look like she wasn't crying. She was failing miserably.

"Guys, what happened?" Schue asked, one hand on Finn's shoulder.

Rachel was clutching Jesse's arm, shaking.

Finn finally saw Kurt, sprawled across Finn's lower body, eyes tightly closed, also shaking. His crazy wig was still on.

"What happened?" Schue asked again.

"I... went to get my backpack..." Finn hardly recognized his own voice. It seemed to come from somewhere outside him. It was then that he noticed a corner of said backpack, sticking out from under the collapsed set. "Oh, holy shit..."

It was Kurt who seemed to get his bearings back first, and he curled into a seated ball, rubbing his calves.

"It's okay, Mr. Schue," he said with a quavering smile. "It's okay."

Quinn suddenly spoke, most unexpectedly.

"Kurt... did you...?"

Rachel looked at Quinn, and suddenly seemed to understand exactly what Quinn meant to say.

"Yeah... You pushed him out of the way, didn't you?" Rachel finished, in a sort of accusatory tone.

Kurt shrugged.

"Of course. What sort of a person would I be if I didn't?" he said dismissively.

Finn expelled a horrified breath, and tried to stand up.

"Hold on, guys, hold on," Schue said, "I don't think anybody better move."

"No," Finn said quickly, "We're fine. We're fine."

"Yeah, but if..." Quinn trailed off. She had a strange look on her face, and she turned away.

"Look, I'm gonna call your parents, okay?" Schue said.

"They're not at home," Kurt said, claiming Finn's mother as part of "his" parents. "Finn's mom works late on Fridays, and my dad's on a fishing trip until Sunday. I'm fine to drive, Mr. Schue."

"No," Schue said forcefully, removing his hand from Finn's shoulder and placing it on Kurt's. "No. Look, you might have really hurt yourself. You can't drive. Neither can Finn. You're both going to the ER. Rachel."

"I'm on it," Rachel said, taking charge. She also took Jesse's hand. "Hello, 911?"

Mr. Schue patted Kurt's shoulder awkwardly. It was clear that he was much more "at home" with Finn, but right now, he knew that the smaller boy deserved his full attention.

"That was a really brave thing you did," he said quietly.

"Like I said, Mr. Schue, any decent person would have done it," Kurt said, looking in Finn's general direction, but avoiding his eyes.

* * *

Finn would have given anything for his mom to have not been the one bursting through the double doors of the ER. In three short steps, she was at his bedside, trying to be strong for her little boy and the littler boy whose father was out of town.

"Your friend Rachel called me at work and told me everything," she said, her voice muffled against his shirt. "Oh, honey, it's gonna be okay."

"Where did Rachel get your work number?" Finn asked, tensing up as he felt Kurt's eyes on him from the next bed. "It's already... fine, Mom. It's fine. I'm good. We're good."

"I can't even imagine..." she choked on the words. "Oh, god. Honey, lie down."

"No, I'm good-" Finn said, but a moment later, she was across the room with Kurt.

"Kurt, honey," she said, the word "honey" seeming to fit Kurt better than it did Finn, "I called your dad. He's coming right home."

"Thank you," Kurt said quietly.

"I don't even know how to thank you," she said. "Your friend Rachel told me everything, about how you saved his life."

Finn rolled his eyes. Dear god, why did people keep SAYING that? KURT didn't die! Why would Finn have? It was just a damn wall.

Kurt was blushing, like a good modest hero.

"It's okay, Mrs. Hudson."

"Call me Carole!"

"Okay, right, but we're fine," Finn repeated. "We're BOTH just fine."

As if on cue, the doctor walked back in.

"Hi... are you his mom?" the doctor asked.

"I'm Finn's mom," Carole said, grasping Finn's hand. "Carole Hudson."

"Okay, Mrs. Hudson. Your son is going to be just fine, it looks like. A little bump on the head, some bruising. Probably could have been a lot worse, if I understand correctly."

Carole paled, but nodded.

"As for you, Mr. Hummel, seems you have a hairline fracture-"

Carole gasped, using her other hand to clutch Kurt's shoulder.

The doctor raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Hudson... should you be here?" the doctor asked.

"His father and I are dating. It's quite serious," Carole said without emotion. "A hairline fracture where?"

The doctor took that opportunity to put up a pair of Xrays, showing the almost invisible fracture in Kurt's left ankle, which had since swollen up to twice its original size and was heavily bruised under the bandages the nurse had applied.

"It'll take a few weeks to heal. In the meantime, you'd better stay off it as much as you can. We'll have to cast it, as well."

Kurt, Carole and Finn simultaneously paled.

"I... understand," Kurt whispered.

"Again, from what I've heard, it could have been much worse. Any questions?"

Carole and Kurt shook their heads, and the doctor left, leaving behind his Xrays.

"Oh, my god," Carole breathed. "I can't even..."

"Mom, sit down," Finn said automatically.

"I've got to sit down," she said. As soon as she was sitting, she turned back to Kurt, her eyes moist with tears.

Finn closed his eyes. This wasn't happening.

A moment later, the door opened again, and Mercedes stood in the doorway.

"Oh, my god, Kurt!" she exclaimed, rushing to her best friend's bedside. "I can't believe it! I had only been gone for like five minutes! What happened?"

"Oh, honey," Kurt said, holding both her hands with his one hand that wasn't being monopolized by Carole. "Don't worry about it..."

"I can't even believe it. Those sets seemed so sturdy! Are you gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, it's just..." Kurt began, before Carole started crying again.

"He's got a hairline fracture," Carole sobbed. Mercedes gasped, and tried not to cry herself.

"Oh, my god, Kurt!" Mercedes wailed.

Finn rolled over, resisting the urge to pull the pillow over his head and smother himself with it.

Still, at least it was only-

The door opened again, and in walked the entire rest of the Glee Club, including Mr. Schue. And Artie, who didn't walk. But he was still there.

"Hey, you guys," Schue said. "How's it going? It looked like the doctor was just here, but he wouldn't talk to us." Schue seemed offended by this.

"Oh, Mr. Schuester," Carole sniffled, "Well, Finn's going to be fine. He just has some bumps and bruises."

"Thank god," Schue said. A few of the kids echoed him.

"Um, and, Kurt... is going to be fine, too, except that he's got a fractured ankle."

A series of gasps, and Kurt closed his eyes.

"Hairline fracture, Carole. Hairline-"

"Oh my god, Kurt," Tina said, trying not to cry. Artie grabbed her hand.

"That's awful," Quinn said.

"Mrs. Hudson, it was good to speak to you on the phone," Rachel said, shaking Carole's hand. "I'm Rachel Berry. I'm sorry we had to meet under such circumstances."

"Hello," Carole said, confused.

"Well, guys... I just... I don't even know what to say," Schue shook his head. "I feel like I'm partially responsible for this."

Finn sat up.

"No, Mr. Schue, you're not-"

"Of course not, Mr. Schue," Kurt said. "Accidents happen. We're both fine. Let's just leave it at that."

Carole nodded, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

Schue nodded, laughing a little.

"Seriously, Mrs. Hudson... you really should know that your son might not even be here right now if it hadn't been for Kurt. He was really amazing back there."

Finn blushed a furious crimson.

"Mr. Schue..." he muttered, closing his eyes.

"Oh, she knows, Mr. Schue. I told her everything," Rachel grinned.

"I know," Carole sighed. "I know. I just don't even know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," Kurt said, a blush rising on his cheeks. "Finn and I are friends. I know he'd have done the same for me."

Finn's eyes snapped open, and he stared at Kurt.

The others seemed to fade away, and a deeply troubled frown crossed his face as he stared across the room at the Xrays.

_"I know he'd have done the same for me."_

Finn realized with a horrible sinking feeling that the others were right. They were absolutely right. He might have been dead, right now. Might well have been. He hadn't noticed the damn wall falling down, about to crush his ass into pulp. He had been too busy trying to pick up that rotten sandwich from two months ago.

Kurt had noticed. Kurt had noticed, and had somehow made it all the way from the dressing room door, to Finn, and had somehow pushed him out of the way of the wall. All in about half a second. Without a second thought for himself, or his own safety.

The wall had broken Kurt's foot, or whatever the doctor had said. What would it have done to Finn?

_"He would have done the same for me."_

But WOULD he, though? That was the question.

He found that he had no idea what the answer was.

* * *

Chez Hummel, as Kurt always called it. Finn didn't know what to call it, but he knew it still wasn't home.

Still, his bed was here. His Xbox was here. Everything that could possibly help him forget today was here.

The room that the two of them shared was still in disarray from that morning, a million years ago, when Finn had woken up late and left all his bedsheets in a heap on the floor. Kurt sniffed at the foreign-to-him smell of dirty laundry, but said nothing as Carole and Finn helped him down the stairs and onto his bed.

"Kurt, honey, your dad says he's about an hour away. I didn't tell him what you did, though. I thought you should tell him yourself."

"Oh, I don't think..."

"Kurt, like it or not, you're our family's hero now. Get used to it. Your dad is going to be so proud of you. Finn?"

"What?" Finn asked, startled.

"Can you get the light?" Carole asked.

"Oh. Right," Finn shuffled over to that lamp. That faggy lamp. He closed his eyes at the memory and got away from it as quickly as he could. The lamp, that is. He would probably never get away from the memory.

"Okay. Listen, is there anything you need?" Carole asked Kurt.

"No, thank you. I'm fine."

"Anything. Any little thing, and you let me know. Okay?"

Kurt nodded.

"Okay, you try to rest." Carole drew him close to her in a teary hug, and when they separated, Kurt was also a bit teary.

"Thank you, Carole," he whispered.

"Okay. Finn, honey, I'm gonna go get dinner started."

"Dinner?" Finn said. "You haven't cooked since we moved in."

"I know. I just... don't know what else to do with myself. Let me know if you need anything, too, okay?"

An afterthought.

Finn nodded, and she was gone.

And the awkwardness settled upon them immediately. Finn prayed Kurt would say something, because he certainly couldn't.

* * *

His prayers were answered, though not exactly the way he wanted.

Carole was at the top of the stairs, announcing that the boys had a visitor.

"Please, god, don't let it be Rachel," Finn said. Kurt shot him an amused smirk that only made Finn more uncomfortable.

A flurry of activity, and Brittany stood before the two, clad in a strange off the shoulder top and skirt. She looked stunningly hot.

"Brit," Kurt said, sitting up in bed. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Hi, Kurt," Brittany said shyly. "Hi, Finn, except I didn't come to see you."

"Hi..." Finn said, raising an eyebrow and mouthing "what the fuck".

"Brittany," Kurt said, "What can we do for you?"

"Well..." Brittany sauntered over to Kurt's bedside, a creepy, seductive smile on her face, "Um... so... I was just thinking about that time we made out. You remember that?"

Kurt immediately flushed bright purplish-red.

"Brittany, now is hardly the time-"

"Okay, but, you remember, right?"

"Of course," Kurt spat, looking sidelong at Finn, who was trying to pretend he wasn't in the room.

"I know. That was pretty hot, right? Except now, you're like, this total hero. And that's an even bigger turn-on for me than kissing my armpits. I can't get you out of my mind."

"Brittany," Kurt began.

"Yes, Kurt," Brittany purred in a deep, seductive voice.

"What we had... we can't ever have again. I'm gay, you know that."

"See, and I don't mind that," Brittany whispered. "I don't even care that you're still wearing makeup."

Kurt touched his cheek and gasped.

"My god, I am. I need to wash this off!"

"Here, let me help you-" Brittany said, but Finn finally stepped in.

"Brittany, look, maybe you oughta come back tomorrow. We're both really, really tired."

"I'll never sleep again, until I make it with Kurt Hummel," Brittany said sadly.

"That really sucks. But, look, come back tomorrow, okay? It's late."

Brittany looked at Kurt, who nodded.

"I mean it," she said. "I mean it. I'll never sleep again."

"Okay, Brittany. See you on Monday!" Finn waved to her, and she finally got the cue to leave.

As soon as the door closed, Kurt let out a deep breath.

"That was cruel," he said, mostly to himself. "The poor girl. I know exactly how she feels."

Finn nodded slowly, until a jolt of electricity accompanied his realization that Kurt was talking about his feelings for HIM.

And then, things were awkward again.

* * *

How Kurt slept, Finn didn't know. The room was too hot. And too cold. Everything hurt. But it shouldn't have hurt. It didn't have any right to hurt.

He could see Kurt's sleeping figure across the room, curled under that hideous blanket. Breathing steadily.

He was so damn small.

Burt had been home a few hours earlier, and the look on his face when Kurt had blurted out that he had kind of, sort of, pushed Finn out of the way of the falling crushy wall of doom had been enough to make a lump in Finn's throat that no amount of swallowing would get rid of.

It was the look of a father who couldn't be prouder of his son if he tried. Finn realized that he had never had a father to give him that look. He had never had anyone anywhere give him that look, except possibly for Mr. Schue.

But this wasn't the same at all.

When Burt looked at Finn, the expression was one of relief. He realized how close he had come to losing his semi-stepson for good. He felt no malice toward Finn for almost getting Kurt killed.

That surprised Finn. He felt malice toward himself for almost getting Kurt killed. Surely other people did, too.

Kurt had been the one to ask his dad to leave them alone so they could sleep. But as awful as it had been to be with Kurt and his dad, being alone with Kurt was infinitely worse.

He had had to get Kurt one of his fancy moist towelettes and all his moisturizer bottles from the bathroom. He had stood there impotently as Kurt did his moisturizing routine in bed, and then had taken the bottles back to the bathroom.

The bathroom was where he went now, to be alone with his thoughts. That was a mistake. The place reeked of Kurt, and he wasn't alone at all.

He turned on the light, and looked at himself. A few bruises here and there that hurt like hell. But he was alive. What did he have to whine about?

Light off. He couldn't stand to see himself now.

The weekend had just begun.

* * *

Monday shouldn't have been hell. Compared to the weekend which, cooped up in that basement with Kurt, in case his savior needed anything, was the worst experience of his life so far.

Monday should have been a breeze.

Instead, the second he pulled up to the door, behind the wheel of Kurt's car because Kurt wouldn't be driving for awhile, he realized he should have stayed at home. They both should have.

There was Mercedes, Tina, Artie, Rachel, Jesse, Quinn, Brittany, Mike, Matt, and Schue. Finn was letting Kurt off at the door while he found a parking spot. At least, that was the plan.

The kids and Schue erupted in applause and cheers as Kurt made his way across the sidewalk on crutches. Mercedes and Tina rushed to his side, planting sloppy kisses on both of his cheeks.

Finn waved to Schue, but for the most part, was ignored. He found a spot, got out of the car, and was face to face with Karofsky and Azimio.

"Damn, didn't think he'd have the balls to show up here again," Karofsky mused aloud, looking directly at Finn. "Gotta give him props."

"Whatever, man, listen, we're gonna make this brief. You're an insult to the male population of the earth. The end," Azimio scoffed.

"Yeah, man. We're not even gonna bother kicking your ass. That Hummel kid was right, we don't beat up girls."

The two marched away from him, leaving him feeling more like crap than ever.

They didn't even want to kick his ass.

The one day when he would have invited it, and they didn't even want to kick his ass.

What the hell.

Every single class. Every single teacher. Every single kid in every single class. All of them wanted to know exactly what had happened.

The play was postponed indefinitely. The local news was doing a report. _Sue's Corner_ was going to be about bottled water and how we owe it to Mother Earth to bottle every last drop, but she announced part of the way through Finn's third period that she was going to do her _Sue's Corner_ that night about her star Cheerio, Kurt Hummel, thus taking credit for his heroism.

Glee rehearsals, where people should have known better, were even worse. Schue was forced to scrap his lesson on theatricality, but announced that there was an even more important lesson to be learned, courtesy of Kurt, who had so selflessly risked his own life to save someone he cared about.

Through the "lesson", Finn noticed that Quinn was glancing back at him. He tried not to look at her, knowing she was thinking exactly what everyone else was thinking.

_What a douche._

_What a pussy._

_What a weenie._

_What a jerk._

_What an asshole._

Rehearsals ended, and Finn had to drive Kurt home. He could have screamed.

"Listen, I'll go get the car, okay?" he asked Kurt.

"Take your time," Kurt smiled. Mercedes whispered something, and Kurt shushed her.

Finn turned on his heel and stormed down the hall, oblivious to everything around him, until Quinn stepped in front of him. He stopped, staring down at her.

"Hi," she said, smiling nervously.

"Hi," he said automatically. "Uh, I gotta... go."

"Finn," she said in that same silky smooth voice she had used before all the bullshit. It was enough to stop him. It shouldn't have been, but it was.

She gestured at a couple of chairs outside Principal Figgins' office. The office was empty, the door locked. Still Finn hesitated.

Quinn sighed.

"You're not in trouble. Just sit down."

Finn hesitated again, but finally acquiesced. Quinn followed suit, slowly pushing herself into the chair with a "oooh!".

She smiled. "Baby," she explained.

"I know," he said uncomfortably.

She sighed.

"Finn, are you okay?"

"Yeah," he said automatically. "Of course."

"No, you're not."

He looked at her.

"Yeah, I am."

"You're not. I can see it a mile away. I know you."

He looked away. She did know him. Too well. Too damn well.

"What do you see?" he asked.

"I see you're embarrassed. Humiliated. _Why did it have to be him_, right?"

Finn stared at her. It was like she was inside his head.

"You feel like shit. But you think you shouldn't feel that way. You still resent him, though. Maybe you even hate him a little."

"He saved my life," Finn said. "I can't say anything bad about him. And I don't want to! It's not his fault everything sucks now."

"You're hurting, too. I know. You're completely emasculated."

Finn opened his mouth to speak, but Quinn stopped him.

"I know. I forgot. You have no idea what that word means. It means you feel like less of a man now."

"Totally. God. No one even wants to kick my ass anymore. Azimio and Karofsky called me a girl."

"You're not a girl. And this will pass."

"Yeah..." Finn shook his head. "It's just... fuck. What he said. About how I'd do the same for him."

The words were out before he could take them back, and Quinn realized she had inadvertently gotten to the bottom of it all.

"You don't know if you would," she said, laughing humorlessly.

"I want to say I would. But... it all happened so fast. I feel like... if the tables were turned, I don't even know if I'd notice. Or if I'd be able to..."

"I don't know if you would, either," Quinn admitted. "I don't know if anyone would. I bet I'd just... stand there and scream."

"You're pregnant," Finn said.

"I'm not going to be pregnant forever. And me being pregnant is not the point. The point is, you don't know. So why beat yourself up about it? If Kurt says you'd have done the same for him, why not just let him think that? It might even be true."

"That's not good enough," Finn said, shaking his head. "Crap. I gotta get the car."

"Okay," Quinn said quietly. "Go ahead."

Finn took a few steps, then stopped.

"Thanks," he said, before he continued.

Quinn nodded, watching him go. She tucked her head into her chest and let herself cry. Damn pregnancy hormones.

* * *

"Home" again. By some miracle, Carole and Burt were both gone, though for how long, Finn didn't know.

Kurt wanted to sit upstairs for awhile, and Finn was happy to comply. At least upstairs didn't reek of Kurt so much.

The TV was on, to some movie Finn had never seen. Chicks dancing around, old timey cars, awful music.

"What is this?" Finn asked casually.

Kurt shot him a strange look.

"It's _Chicago_," he said.

"What's that?" Finn asked.

"It's the play that we were going to put on, Finn," Kurt said, eyebrow raised.

"What? This?"

"Yes. This is the theatrical version."

Damn.

The girl with the dark hair doing all the sexy dancing was the one that Kurt had wanted to play, wasn't she? She was singing this saucy tune about how she used to dance, back before her sister had died.

"You could have totally done her," Finn said quietly. Kurt shot him a shocked glance, and he quickly said, "I mean, played her. Been her. In the play."

Kurt smiled a strange little smile.

"I could have," he admitted, "If traditional gender roles weren't so highly valued."

"Yeah..." Finn nodded. "Which guy was I?"

"You were Roxie's husband. Amos. He sings Mr. Cellophane. That was my audition song for Glee."

"What? Really?" Finn asked. "I had to sing?"

"Well, it doesn't matter now," Kurt sighed. "But, yes. You had to sing."

"Damn."

Kurt shrugged a little and turned back to the TV.

Finn glanced behind him. Burt and Carole still weren't home.

"Hey... can I sit down?" Finn asked Kurt.

Kurt shrugged again, moving the pillow he'd been leaning against. He never took his eyes off the TV.

"What's this about, anyway?" Finn asked.

Kurt shot him a sidelong glance.

"Didn't you read the script?"

"No," Finn admitted. "I just looked for my lines. I didn't even notice there was a song in there."

"Well," Kurt said in a long-suffering way, "It's about a woman who kills her lover in the heat of anger, and the corrupt system that glamorizes criminals."

"Sounds awesome," Finn said.

"It would have been," Kurt sighed.

Finn looked at the smaller boy, seeming to realize something for the first time.

"You really wanted to do that play, huh?"

"Of course. Who wouldn't?"

"Like... half of Glee club. Or more like, everyone except you, Rachel and Jesse."

"Well, you know."

"Yeah, I do know. That was your dream, kinda, wasn't it?"

Kurt shrugged.

"It's not a big deal. After all, we still have Regionals..."

"But this is different. This is something you really wanted to do. Not for Glee Club, but for yourself. And you gave it up."

"Well, to be honest, it wasn't my decision to cancel the play."

"No. But it was your decision to save my life."

Kurt flushed that same old deep reddish.

"Finn," he said quietly.

"It was. And... you did. It's like everybody said. I would have been a pancake. You could have been, too. And you did it anyway. I don't even know why."

"Because-"

"Because I would have done it for you? Because it was the right thing to do?"

"Yeah."

"No. I mean, yeah, but... all that isn't enough. I don't know if I could have done it for you. I really don't know. I know I would want to, and I'd totally be all set to do it. But when it really came down to it? Could I? I don't know."

Kurt nodded, looking at his hands.

"And I don't know what to do about it," Finn snapped. "We're always going to be... all unbalanced now. I don't know what I can do," Finn sighed.

"You don't have to do anything."

"Yes. I do."

"Finn..." Kurt began, but he was interrupted by Finn's sudden decision to launch himself across Kurt's lap, into a deep, passionate, angry kiss.

When they broke it off, or rather, when Finn pulled himself away from a stunned Kurt, neither could speak.

The movie kept playing, and Kurt eventually turned himself back to the TV to continue watching.

"God, that didn't make it any better, did it?" Finn asked.

"I'm not sure what you mean," Kurt said.

"I didn't know what else to do."

"Should I be under the impression that you would have kissed anyone who saved your life?"

"What! NO!" Finn exclaimed. "GOD no!"

"Really. Well... then... I'm... flattered," Kurt said, trying to keep his voice steady. "Thank you."

"No, dammit. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. That was... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

"It's alright."

"No, it's not. I just don't know what else to do!"

"Finn... I am reminded of a time, not long ago, in which you quite valiantly came to my rescue, in a bright red vinyl shower curtain besides. I think we're more than even."

"God, stop it. That barely counts. Nothing even happened."

"But it could have."

"I only did that because..."

"Well, I only did what I did 'because.'"

Finn frowned.

"No, We're not even. But we will be. I'll figure something out. I swear."

"I'm open to any ideas you might have," Kurt smirked.

"I don't know yet."

Kurt shrugged, turning the TV back up. That Velma chick was doing something again, and Kurt sighed as he touched his hair, seemingly wishing that he had that wig back.

And suddenly, Finn knew exactly what to do.

* * *

"We gotta put on that play, Mr. Schue. And you gotta give Kurt that role he wanted. That... Velma whatever. She might be a chick, but he can totally do it."

"Hold on, hold on, Finn," Schue said, sitting behind his desk, both hands in the air. "I mean... we can probably still do it, but are you sure you're okay with it? Are you sure he's okay with it?"

Finn rolled his eyes.

"Of course."

"You almost died on school grounds, Finn. That's a big deal."

"You're telling me? But I didn't die, and that's because of Kurt. I owe him, and he really wants to do this. I could tell. The way he talks about that chick, it's like... his dream. I want to... kind of make it come true."

Schue put his hands behind his head.

"You really care about him, don't you?"

"Yeah... I mean... of course. He's my... friend. I want to do this for him."

"I gotta say, I don't know if the world is ready for Kurt Hummel as Velma Kelly," Schue smirked.

"Screw the world," Finn said. Wow. That sure sounded better in his head.

* * *

Schue was in full-on speech mode.

"So, guys, after some serious deliberation, an exorcism, and a very thorough inspection, Principal Figgins has deemed the auditorium safe for our use once again. And, uh... I think we owe it to ourselves to go ahead with the play."

Rachel gasped with utter, well, glee, and leaned her head on Jesse's shoulder, grinning widely.

"It, uh... also occurs to me that we might want to make a few casting adjustments. Some of you maybe... weren't cast very well the first time around."

"Mr. Schue," Finn said, raising his hand, "I think you should make Kurt-"

"Right, Finn, you wanted to switch roles with... Puck? Is that gonna work for you guys?"

"No, I really just... don't think this play stuff is for me," Finn admitted. "You should give Matt my line."

Matt opened his mouth to speak, but Puck interrupted him.

"Who the hell are you trying to make me be now?" Puck scoffed.

"You're Roxie's husband," Finn said.

"Who the hell is Roxie?"

Rachel grinned widely, waving a coy little wave. Jesse raised an eyebrow.

"Oh. Sweet. I could get in on that," Puck grinned.

"Mr. Schue, I can't be whoever you cast me as," Santana said irritably. "I was going to drop out anyway, but then a wall fell on Kurt so I figured I was good. But, seriously. I just have no interest in being in this crappy play."

"Me either," Brittany said. "I haven't slept in like, a week."

Kurt looked at the floor guiltily.

"Uh, well, Santana, if you're sure..." Schue said, an eyebrow raised.

"Why are we even still talking about this? I said I wanted out."

"Well, looks like we have a spot open for Miss Velma Kelly," Schue said. Kurt's head immediately snapped up, and he looked as if he wanted to say something, but decided against it.

"Mr. Schue, you know who I think would be perfect for-" Finn said, but Jesse interrupted.

"I'm not going to drop out, but I do have a few admittedly superior suggestions," he said.

"Uh, Jesse, we'll keep that in mind. Finn, what did you want to say?" Schue asked, leaving Jesse staring at him, mouth agape.

"Oh, just that... I know somebody who would be perfect for Velma Kelly." Finn smiled self-indulgently. "Kurt. He kind of lives and breathes _Chicago_."

Kurt whirled around, staring at Finn with huge eyes.

"Yeah... I... heard that," Schue said. "I also feel like maybe I didn't give you a fair enough shot the first time around, Kurt. What do you say? The spot's yours if you want it."

"I-" Kurt couldn't speak.

"Mr. Schuester," Jesse said irritably. "Speaking of not giving someone a fair enough shot..."

"I'll take it!" Kurt blurted out. Mercedes, Tina, Quinn, Finn, Brittany and Artie applauded. Brittany unzipped the back of her Cheerios uniform. Santana noticed and zipped it back up.

"Alright!" Schue clapped his hands. "Let's get down to that auditorium!"

"I'll be the first Velma Kelly on crutches!" Kurt giggled to Mercedes.

"Whatever, I'm still gonna need your help sewing those damn dresses," she groaned.

The kids rushed out the door, Kurt going last, except for Finn, who was still sitting down. He had grown accustomed to walking with Kurt, and now was no exception.

"Congratulations," Finn said quietly.

"Finn, I don't know what to say," Kurt replied, hopping steadily down the hallway. "I know you did this."

"Yeah, well, it was nothing. As long as you're happy."

"I am. Thank you."

They walked in silence for awhile.

"Puck singing Mr. Cellophane..." Kurt shuddered. "Why did you drop out?"

"I want to... be in the audience."

"Madness," Kurt said.

"No. Not really. I kind of want to... watch you."

"You want to watch me?" Kurt couldn't keep the disbelief out of his voice.

"I mean, and everyone else. I want to see the play, see what it's about and... everything."

"Still, to drop out completely..." Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Well, I'll try my best to make it one hell of a show."

"How could it not be?" Finn grinned.

"You make a good point," Kurt returned the grin as they stepped into the elevator, and then immediately stepped out as they realized that Brittany was in the elevator in just her bra and skirt.

"Kurt... I'm serious..." she moaned. "I thought you were my cupcake yesterday. I couldn't eat it."

The elevator doors closed.

"Jesus," Finn said.

"Fix that problem for me, and we'll be even," Kurt shuddered.

"You're on your own." Finn shook his head.

~FIN (n?)~


End file.
